Dancing Lights
by TitanMaddix
Summary: "We will dance, dance the night away." Welcome to the sixth Capitol Games.
1. Prologue - Lazarus

**Lazarus Umber, 31.**

 **Head Gamemaker.**

* * *

The man was making a comeback. Not to be recognized by every bloke who owned a television. Or be the man everyone was talking about at parties. The fame didn't mean a thing to him. No, he took the job for his family. To give them the life he had promised them before the rebellion. Before the Districts took control of Panem and Gamemakers young and old were punished for their part in the death of hundreds of innocent children. He didn't blame them. Their desire for retribution was an understandable response to the years of tragedy they endured. For Lazarus however, it had always and always will be nothing more than a job.

He stood at the center of his one bedroom apartment gazing at his rugged features in a cracked mirror. An overhead light flickered ever so slightly, illuminating the near empty space. His eyes shot to the loose tie around his neck as his hands instinctively went to tighten it. After doing so Lazarus turned to an outdated television sitting on a stand to his right.

"Want me to turn it up?" His wife, Ophelia, exclaimed placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Grabbing a comb, Lazarus moved to plant an affectionate kiss on the cheek of his wife before running the utensil through his dark locks of hair. "Why? There's never any happy news anyway," he replied dryly.

Not to his surprise, the volume was turned up and his attention shifted to the bellowing of Panem's President, Marcus LeGrand. The District Nine native was a tall, unhappy looking man. What hair he had atop his balding head whipped about in the wind as his lips curled in disgust.

" _It has recently come to my attention that there has been a disturbance in the eastside of the Capitol. Troublemakers have gathered and protests have formed but know this. It is a dark road you are traveling down my friends. Protests lead to riots. Riots lead to rebellion. Rebellion is something that will not be tolerated. Even in its simplest form. Any man, woman or child seen to be apart of these treasonous acts will dealt with swiftly. For the greater good of our nation we need to stand united in these times. Now, more than ever before. Thank you!"_

Lazarus couldn't help but roll his eyes. The hypocrisy of the Districts was something most were aware of but few did anything about. Those that did try and do some good in the eastside were in the minority hiding in the shadows of drug cartels and gang violence. The eastside was a dangerous place for the middle and upper class, as many residents felt betrayed when they received no aid from the rest of the Capitol. Honest jobs were hard to find. Homes were still damaged from the war. It seemed as if things would never change. That the only way an eastsider would escape the rut of their community was to claw their way out and that was exactly what he would do.

"You know I still don't like the idea of you becoming Head Gamemaker," Ophelia turned to him a frown forming on her face.

"I know dear, but it's a job. The first real opportunity I've had in months." It was the truth. The best he had been able to find was clearing rubble. The pay was mediocre and his superiors were crooks. Not an ideal situation but it was money all the same.

He watched as her brows furrowed and her stare grew more intense. Her forestlike eyes shot daggers at him, penetrating any sense of calmness he once felt. "Remember the last real job you had Lazarus? We are still paying for it. The Gamemaker Tax hasn't been kind to us, and you're just going to stroll in and do it all again?"

Stepping towards her, Lazarus placed a hand on the small of her back and the other on her swollen stomach. Almost instantly the woman relaxed, pulling him closer and burying her face into his chest. "You know why I have to," he stated plainly.

Their lips pressed against one another and for Lazarus, time seemed to slow. She nodded in agreement but didn't say a word as he held her and for a moment they simply remained intertwined in silence. Only the mummerings of the television filled the room.

" _This just in, a string of disappearances has risen right here in the Capitol. Men and women, young and old have vanished without a trace. If you have any information regarding these disappearances, we here at Vanity News urge you to check in with your local authorities."_

Lazarus moved to turn the television off, he had heard enough bad news for one day. As the screen went black however, his cell phone went off. With a sigh and an apologetic glance to his wife, Lazarus answered the phone.

"Mr. Umber, your limo has arrived."

"Thank you, I'll be right down." Lazarus stated briefly before hanging up the phone. His lips met Ophelia's forehead and his hands found her waist. "I've gotta go."

"Be safe."

"Always." He replied with a smile. A smile that was genuine as he gave the love of his life one final look before stepping back into the spotlight. Back into the world he was forced to leave behind.

He made his way down the dusty staircase. The creaking on the steps had always made it seem as if he'd fall through but it was something he had grown quite used to. Even if it did send an unwanted chill down his spine at times.

Lazarus made it down stairs to find his neighbor, an elderly woman who was once an Avox, collecting her mail. She glared at him before scurrying back into her apartment. The woman had always been a bit standoffish but never rude.

As he stepped outside he took in the smells of the eastside. His nose crinkled as the unpleasant scents hit his nostrils. It didn't look any better. The gloomy sky mixed with the rubble and ruin was definitely a sight for sore eyes but it was home. In a way he'd miss it when they inevitably moved. The limo driver met him at the door and gave him a curt nod as they began walking to the vehicle. Today was his debut. He had an interview with the ever popular Destiny Arbor on her talk show.

They neared the limo when a group of young men approached. "Where's your eastside pride Umber?" A tattooed gentlemen at the front of the group cried out. The limo driver flashed the gun at his hip causing most of the group to back off but not him. He stood his ground.

"I would think an eastsider finding a well paying job and getting out of the rut would be something of an inspiration to others," Lazarus began, "though I suppose when you have no goals other than being a deadbeat you'd see my elevation as a lack of pride."

With a scoff the man turned his back on Lazarus as he stepped inside the limo.

The door closing behind him, Lazarus couldn't help but let out a sigh. The city has changed tremendously. Things are no longer as black and white as they had been when Snow was in charge. There had never been "poor" people before. That was left for the Districts, which were now thriving. Free of the Games completely, they aren't even forced to watch. That was for the Capitol to suffer.

Not that everyone suffered. As twisted as it was, many still treated the Games as a holiday. Eager to watch, even if it was their own children paying the price. Having grown up in a culture that celebrated bloodsport for generations, it wasn't a surprise that folk still enjoyed and even obsessed over the Games.

The upper class wasn't any better. Sponsoring potential Victor's with the hope of giving their business the boost it needs to push ahead the competition. Clawing at any source of power they could find to provide some feeling they had in the past. They weren't able to step on the little guy anymore and so they turned to each other. Business was as cutthroat as ever, and nearly impossible to maintain.

As the limo reached its destination Lazarus took in a deep breath. The Capitol was a dangerous place. Climbing the ladder would be a difficult task but for his family, he'd do anything. With a professional smile on his face, Lazarus stepped out of the limo and into the blinding light of paparazzi.

* * *

 **Hello everyone! Welcome to the story. I have a few submission from my first go around and am excited to see what else you creative bunch can come up with. I'm going to be patient with this, I don't want to rush it and have characters that don't really fit. So as of right now there is no deadline. The form is on my profile, please take your time and think up something truly amazing! See you around :)**


	2. Prologue - Alandair

**Alandair Monet, 27.**

 **Entrepreneur.**

* * *

The stage was set and everything was going according to plan. Umber took the job, there wasn't ever a doubt in Alandair's mind that he wouldn't. The man had always been stubborn and going back to a profession that resulted in a life of poverty was just that. A stubborn move, and yet it was a respectable one. Lazarus would do anything to make his big comeback. It was that kind of determination Alandair had always admired. Even when they were children Alandair looked up to the man and he would continue to do so.

Alandair stood at the center of his elegant hotel suite gazing at his sharp features in a pristine mirror. A chandelier hung overhead, illuminating a silver suit as he slid into it. His eyes moved to the loose bow tie at his neck as his hands almost mechanically moved to tie it. Twirling a finger through his platinum blonde mustache, the man let out an enthusiastic yelp as his phone went off.

Before he had the time to answer, the playful but stern voice of a woman rang out on the other line. "Alandair, you won't believe the amount of trouble you're in."

He could barely contain his laughter, this woman had always been a coy one. "Belladonna my dearest, I'm certain you're going to tell me."

"They're not happy you went around them to get Lazarus the Head Gamemaker position," the woman replied coldly, "I'm not happy."

Alandair paced the room anxiously. He knew the others wouldn't be pleased, maybe lose a bit of trust in him but the move had to be made. "We were going to fill the spot anyway, does it really matter who would oversee it?" Of course, it mattered. The person who controlled the Head Gamemaker held more power within the organization. It meant they also controlled the Victor, Alandair knew this, saw his opportunity and took it.

"With one of our agents, yes. Not a man without ties. Not a man who doesn't owe us a damn thing!" Belladonna persisted.

"He owes **me** everything!"

There was a pause. Alandair pondered for a moment if that was the right response. Belladonna could have him killed at any moment, true unrivaled power was always in her grasp. "You're playing a dangerous game, my dear. A very dangerous game."

"They're the only kind I know how to play," Alandair replied with a light chuckle. "Lazarus trusts me. He is the perfect tool for the Society."

"Lazarus is a storyteller. He will point the games in the direction of the story he wishes to tell, how certain are you that he will tell yours?" Belladonna asked though Alandair knew it was a loaded question.

If he said he didn't know, he'd be cast out or killed for making a foolish move. If he claimed certainty, he'd be deemed overconfident, overzealous and result in the same fate. The White Rose society was a dangerous organization, just as it was designed to be. Just as the great Coriolanus Snow meant the world to be. Dangerous, but balanced and utterly in the palm of his hand. The White Rose society meant to bring the world back to where it should be. In the Capitol's control. For Alandair, his plan was the only way to obtain that.

"I suppose we'll have to see my dear," Alandair replied cooley, "However everything I do is for the White Rose. For the true Panem. I won't allow for that to be questioned."

Belladonna sighed heavily from the other line, "Be careful Alandair."

He listened as the phone disconnected. Alandair remained motionless for a moment, staring off into a crystal globe that spun above a hover plate on his coffee table. Its glimmer was mesmerizing and for a moment Alandair felt a sense of peace but was quickly pulled back to reality when his phone went off once more. "This is Alandair Monet," he answered sternly.

"Mr. Monet, your limo is ready for you," a posh nasally voice rang out on the other end.

"Thank you, I'll be down shortly," he replied before hanging up. With a big pearly smile returning to his face, Alandair motioned towards the front door giving the beautiful suite one last glance before stepping out into the hallway which was equally luxurious. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, all the way to the golden elevator. Paintings of great Capitol figures hung on the walls. Harmon Lector, Cesar Flickerman, Annabelle Lovett. The Glory Hotel was as pristine as you could get on the Westside, and Alandair was fortunate enough to own half of it.

He stepped inside the elevator to a broadcast on one of the elevator wall's television screens. There was always something fascinating going on, especially recently. His eyes narrowed however when a very suspicious news story caught his attention.

"We here at Vanity News would like to warn viewers, the next few images will be quite graphic." The newscaster noted grimly as the body of a young woman lay lifeless in the middle of an alleyway, a large hole in her chest just barely noticeable underneath a perfectly trimmed white rose. The word 'traitor' painted in red above her on the building walls, assumably with her own blood.  
Wayland is a damned fool if he thinks he's getting out of this one, Alandair thought to himself. He thought back to the day the bastard broke away from the White Rose, went into hiding. It was nothing at first, just a game of cat and mouse. That is until people started going missing. Belladonna believes Wayland has mustered a cult following. It was a small problem that blew up in their faces when it wasn't dealt with immediately. It gave their society a bad name. If they ever decided to go public, they would forever be associated with the cult until it was dealt with and buried.

The elevator stopped on floor fifteen, and a curvy woman in a red cocktail dress stepped inside. She had rubies on her fingers and fiery red hair fell in curls down her back. Alandair smiled as her crimson eyes locked onto his. "Hello darling, I fortunate am I to be sharing an elevator ride with the likes of you."

She giggled a bit and allowed him to plant a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. "What does a fine creature such as yourself go by?" He mused afterward.

"Elizabeth, but it appears I may be the fortunate one."

"Why might that be my dear?" Alandair chuckled but before she could respond he added, "Oh that's right! You're my plus one to A Chat with Destiny."

"Precisely, as I said. How fortunate I am indeed."

The elevator stopped at the main floor, and Alandair held out his arm for Elizabeth to take. She did so, eagerly, and the two waltz out to the lobby. Statues and magnificent artwork make the place look more like a museum, but it gave it a regal feel that made Alandair feel at home. Though as they stepped outside into the bustling streets of the Westside, Alandair could not stop himself from thinking of the lifeless woman left for dead in the alleyway. Any day that could be him, such is the life of a powerful man. He snapped back into reality as the dancing lights of cars and street signs blinded him momentarily. That is until his limo came into view. The pair made their way over, the chauffeur opening the door for the two of them.

Alandair allowed Elizabeth to enter first, allowing him to take in the majesty of the Glory Hotel once more. Hard work truly did pay off, but he had so much more to do. "Tonight is going to be an interesting night," he said aloud before entering the limo himself.

* * *

 **This chapter was a little shorter, didn't flow as well either. You are your own harshest critic however so I'd love to hear your thoughts.**


	3. Prologue - Destiny

**Destiny Arbor, 45.**

 **Talk Show Host.**

* * *

The stage was set, the crowd was beginning to pour in by the hundreds. Everyone looked fabulous, lights, camera, action! She just knew tonight will be utterly unforgettable. As her hair and makeup crew finished up the last few touches, Destiny reviewed her notes for the upcoming interview: _Lazarus Umber, newest Head Gamemaker, first Capitolite Head Gamemaker since the Hunger Games, former Gamemaker in line for a promotion, studied mutation and arena design at Paramount School of Fine Arts, married without child (boring), resident of the Eastside, previously worked in construction, specifically rubble removal. It would seem young Mr. Umber is a regular fellow, nothing extraordinary outside his new position. Talking points include: Being a Capitolite Head Gamemaker in the Capitol Games, potential hints for the newest arena and what to expect for the Sixth Capitol Games._

Destiny took in a deep breath, eyeing up her look in one of the many golden rimmed mirrors before her. Her eyes were deep and pupilless, dark and mysterious like the night sky and speckled with starlight. Her hair fell in shimmering midnight curls down her spine, and she wore an extravagant matte black cocktail dress, studded with diamonds in the pattern of tiny hearts. Simple enough to not draw focus, but with enough of a punch to turn some heads. She was satisfied with the work her crew put into this look. Now all she had to do was put that much work into tonight, and so she would.

"Five minutes, Ms. Arbor!" A man called from the other side of the door.

"Thank you, darling, I'll be right out!" She mused smiling at the fluttery feeling in her chest. It was a feeling that never got old, being on stage in front of a live audience. One comprised Capitol fans and District dwellers alike. A massive audience, with all eyes on her… _and Lazarus of course_.

A continuation of the Games, albeit the name change, was the best thing that could have happened to her. It allowed her to spotlight them each year on her talk show and recently been offered a position as Master of Ceremonies. _Or in this case, Mistress. I like the sound of that_ , she thought to herself biting her bottom lip with a wide grin. Either which way, she was making money. In the Capitol, money made the world go round. You either had it or you wound up on the Eastside, like Lazarus and most of the other Gamemakers from the past. Thanks to the Gamemaker Tax, those poor men and women were forced to a life of poverty and strife. Which was what made Lazarus interesting. He managed to claw his way from the bottom back up to the top. Something that no one in his position had done before.

Rising to her feet she gave the mirror one last wink, before stepping out her door and making her down a long narrow hallway, the roars and chatter of the crowd could nearly be heard from her dressing room, the closer she got the fluttery feeling she felt turned into a rumble as her entire body shook with excitement. One last deep breath. One last thought of self-encouragement before giving herself to the world. Hand on the door, Destiny pushed it open and sleekly made her way to center stage.

Her dress glittering in the spotlight as her theme song played overhead, she waved and beamed as the crowd cheered her on. "Why hello everyone!" She called out and like clockwork, the crowd greeted her back in perfect unison. "I must say you all are looking ravishing tonight, did you do something with your hair?" She laughed, waving her hand playfully.

Destiny gracefully took a seat in one of two black velvet armchairs. "Tonight is a very special night. We will be chatting with the Capitol's own, Lazarus Umber! The new Head Gamemaker of the Capitol Games." With that Lazarus stepped out from behind the stage, wearing a simple tux and a professional smile. He waved to the crowd stiffly and took his seat beside Destiny.

"Thanks for having me Destiny, we have a lot to talk about!" He smiled and nodded to the crowd. His deep brown eyes were warm and welcoming, she almost had to pinch herself lest she is lost in them.

"Of course, thanks for coming out to chat with me tonight! I say we get right into it. What do you fine folk think?" she prodded the crowd, receiving the reaction she knew she would. Thunderous applause.

"Ask me anything, I'm an open book." He replied as the noise began to die down.

Destiny laughed, playfully placing a hand onto his shoulder. "Be careful what you wish for darling! Though I must say you haven't much to wish for anymore do you. Having been knocked down only to crawl your way back into the spotlight. How does it feel to have overcome such odds?"

"I'm a man of opportunity, I wouldn't say I've overcome too much," Lazarus spoke with an elegance she had only hoped he had. "An opportunity simply presented itself and I took it."

 _An opportunity! From who? How did you land this job Lazarus Umber, I MUST know!_ It was hard at times to not blurt out everything she was thinking. Sometimes it was better to play the long game.

"You're being modest, dear. If it were that easy every Gamemaker from the days of the Hunger Games would be vying for the seat you're sitting in now. There had to be something about you that brought you here, and I'd be bold enough to say there's no one but you who could have done it."

He smiled once more, "Thank you, you're too kind. Though as I said, I'm an opportunist. I'm just trying to do right by my family. This opportunity has given me the chance to do just that!"

 _He's a dodgy one_ , she thought. Knowing exactly what to say without giving too much away. It was a shame, she had hoped he would spill all the details on how he got the job, though of course, that would likely cause him more trouble than it was worth. Still, he had quite the stage presence. Enough to satisfy the crowd even if he gave them very little information.

"Admirable indeed! How does it feel to be the first Head Gamemaker from the Capitol to be apart of the Capitol Games? Do you feel as though you're turning your back n your fellow Capitolites?"

"Not at all. I've always seen this as merely a job. Nothing more, nothing less." He replied smoothly. "If it weren't me, there would be someone else to take my place I'm sure. So why not me? Why not provide for those I love, by any means."

"A fair answer, truthfully I agree and between us, I'm glad it was you. I've heard you nearly became Head Gamemaker, only nearly losing your seat to Seneca Crane." _And we all know what happened to dear Seneca_ , she giggled to herself inwardly.

"Yes well, the board claimed my ideas were too bold."

"Are they still?" Of course, they are, but what's a little dramatic effect to spice up a show! The audience was eating it up.

"Certainly. I believe the Gamemakers of the first through fifth games were thinking too small. Forests and tundras aren't going to interest folk who have seen forests and tundras ten times over." Lazarus smiled as the crowd hollered in agreeance. "People want something bold, they want something they can talk about for years to come and I aim to give them an arena and a game that will do just that!"

Listening to the audience, it was clear they were wanting more. Hoping he would spill the beans and tell the world about the arena. He wouldn't, but Destiny knew she couldn't help herself but ask anyway.

"Care to share how bold this year will be? Come on Lazarus, I think myself and the people of Panem all want to know more!"

He laughed gently, almost as if he was pondering the idea. "I can't give away all my secrets. Worry not friends, you all will see soon enough!"

"Well is there anything you can tell us? Anything at all? We're dying to have a little something to satiate our appetites." She looked into his eyes, silently pleading with him to give something away. For the sake of the show, the sake of her job.

Lazarus stared back intensely before sighing and with a nod gave up the most minuscule bit of information that would leave the world and her wallet happy. "I suppose one little secret won't hurt, right? I've taken the liberty to create a brand new mutation for this year's games. It's quite large. Reptilian. Hungry!"

Destiny flashed a frightened look to the crowd "Sounds terrifying! I'm sure I'm not the only one here who can't wait to watch it play out on the big screen. Thank you, Lazarus, this has truly been a memorable chat."

"Of course, I enjoyed myself quite a bit. I hope to see you again soon!" He replied politely, though she was sure he was lying through his teeth.

With that, the lights dimmed, danced about for a moment and went dark. The interview was over, and the next step. The Games. She couldn't wait to meet the tributes! She could only hope Lazarus' promise for a memorable game was true. It would be just the thing she needed to make her ratings skyrocket!

* * *

 **Hello to anyone reading! Well, I've had a change of heart after talking to some of you on here and a few friends. I've decided to go for the SYOT. I have a few submissions already, and I'm taking the time to message everyone to see if those submissions are still live. Otherwise submissions are open to anyone who would like to! I'm not worried about how long it will take to receive them, there's no deadline. It's not first come first serve. I'm looking for characters I really feel like will be good for the story and I'm willing to be patient to receive them. I'm willing to work with you guys, bounce ideas off of you. I'll still be posting the next prologue chapter and after that I'll begin the opening scenes for tributes I've accepted. I'll create a blog and update it as I accept more tributes. I can't wait to read what you guys come up with!**


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